Coming Home
by hullosweetpea
Summary: Bruce hates the anxiety when Natasha is away on missions, but he's always there when she comes home.


**A/N: So, I'm continuing my adventure in the new waters that is Brutasaha. Seriously, the ideas don't stop. This was a result from listening to Sam Smith's Life Support. Hope you enjoy!**

Coming Home

Bruce turned the hot water on and soon he was surrounded by thick clouds of steam. Natasha had been away on a mission in London for two days now and he needed to distract himself. He always felt relaxed in the sauna-like feeling of the shower and it put him at ease.

He had taken a lot of showers.

He had even gotten to the point where he went in to just sit down and let the warm spray come down in sheets. The rhythmic pattern the droplets beat on the glass door and Bruce's chest soothed him as he closed his eyes and let the water rain down on him.

He evened his breathing and breathed in the moist, warm air into his lungs. He grabbed his soap bar and lathered up. Natasha liked this scent.

 _Natasha._

As much as a pacifist you could become when you occasionally transformed into a giant, green hulking rage monster, Bruce worried about her on her missions. He knew she could hold her own and then some, but there was always that if. That nagging little if that drove him crazy when she had long missions. Like this one.

He looked down and watched the soap suds swirl down the drain around his feet. The water washed away the remaining suds and his worry. With a contented sigh he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

He pulled a towel around his waist and approached the sink slightly drippy. He opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out a can of shaving cream and his razor. He slathered on the thick, white, fluffy cream in uneven layers. He leaned closer to the mirror and began to shave. He swathed cream trailed paths on his face revealing newly smooth skin underneath. Each shave was with precision, making sure none of his skin was cut and that he never bled.

Once he was done he put his razor down and turned the tap on. Warm water flowing he cupped his hands and with closed eyes, splashed his face to rid it of shaving cream. His face dripped as he looked up in the mirror and grabbed a smaller towel off the rack.

He rubbed the towel across his face and then through his hair to dry off his curls. He replaced it back on the rack so that it could dry and he walked out of the bathroom and to the adjoining bedroom. He walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers and pajama pants. He dropped the towel that had rested on his waist and he pulled on his boxers. He slipped on the pajama pants and he took the towel back into the bathroom to throw it into the hamper.

His slightly damp feet padded across the thick carpet as he made his way to the bed.

Their bed.

He climbed in on the right side of the bed and snuggled down in the blankets that still smelt like her. He grabbed his glasses and tablet off the nightstand. He put his glasses on and turned on his tablet, typing in the password. He checked his e-mails, seeing a few from Tony that he read through.

He switched over to reading a new paper Jane had published that was actually quite intriguing. He didn't even realize how much time had passed until his eyes began to droop.

When Natasha had started to go on missions again he tried to stay up until she returned, but after a while he learned it wasn't plausible. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, a small yawn creeping through his lips.

With heavy eye lids he turned his tablet off and placed it back on the nightstand along with his glasses. As he closed his eyes, he heard it.

The quick turn of the doorknob.

He rolled over so he was facing the door and he almost missed Natasha slip through. She immediately headed for the shower where she wouldn't stay for long as he, guiltily, used all the hot water.

With his mind fully awake he didn't see any use in trying to sleep, but he didn't sit up. It wasn't long before Natasha came back out of the bathroom in only her underwear and she climbed into her side of the bed. Bruce could feel her warm breath on his face and he smiled. "I'm sorry I used up all the hot water."

She looked at him and smiled. "If I had gotten here early would there have been any?"

"Only if you had jumped in with me."

"If only I had the chance."

He pulled her closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm glad you're back. Safe."

"I know. I was fine, it was an easy mission. In and out."

"Well we aren't the most loved people out there right now."

"Bruce?"

"What?"

She looked down at their hands that had found each other under the covers. "Did we make the right decision? Running?"

"Yes, because we made it together."

She smiled as she kissed him softly. He grinned against her lips and sat up against the headboard. Natasha repositioned herself so that she was setting in his lap and she draped her arms around his shoulders. He moved his hands lower to her waist and she moved hers up to muss up his curly hair even more.

He broke away for a moment before covering her lips with his once more. Natasha leaned in closer when he felt the change, the spike in his heartbeat that ruined so much. He moved his hands away from her waist and used them to gently push her away. She looked into his eyes and instantly understood: too much.

"I love you," she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He let his head fall gently on top of hers as he pulled her tighter. "I love you too."

They stayed like that for a bit until she slid back over to her spot. He laid back down on the bed and snuggled closer to her. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo as he carded his fingers through her damp hair and he thought of what she meant to him. Without realizing it she had become a major part of his life. He smiled as he felt her body rising up and down as she breathed. This was what he was addicted to when she was gone: coming home.


End file.
